


Out of the Blue

by lalunaticscribe



Series: Seagull [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Based off of Christopher Moore's Sacré Bleu, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Historical References, Immortality, M/M, Magical Realism, Muse - Freeform, Yuuri's a muse, and viktor is his besotted colourman who helps him collect the Blue, color symbolism, who consumes the life force of artists and musicians by converting it into ultramarine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:16:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe
Summary: Yuuri's a muse who feeds off the life force of artists and musicians as payment for inspiring them via the use of powdered ultramarine.Viktor's the record salesman turned colour-man who helps Yuuri survive World War 2 all the way to Woodstock, 1950s New York.This is not the story of their meeting. This is the story of their plans for the 21st century.





	Out of the Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to my upcoming entry for the YOI Shit Bang, True Blue.

**** Blue is a breed of darkness.

Yuuri had not learnt this exact phrase beforehand. Being trapped in an Utagawa  _ukiyo-e_ print had not exactly lent a conducive study environment to him about European languages. Even the fact that he had been released by the Chaika in the end had not accounted for the destruction of the print, and the loss of the Blue. Yuuri’s source of power was still rooted in the Blue that encompassed the blood, sweat, tears and life of composers and artists guided by whatever silken thrall that he had managed to pull up through his pathetic wanderings about with the current Colourman.

Granted, the last two centuries was a hotbed of inspiration – Yuuri had seduced Russian composers to American official war artists alike, every time with the Colourman who supplied the initial Blue by which Yuuri worked his charm and gave inspiration to those he persecuted.

“Yeats,” the Colourman had said as he rolled Yuuri over mid-dictation. Yuuri had met him in Prohibition-era New York, and now they were in a tent somewhere in Woodstock in the midst of the biggest concert thirty years later. “Was he one of yours?”

“I don’t know any Irish people.” Yuuri replied. “But a barrow-woman might not be strange. I exist, after all. Viktor, it’s cold.”

“Sorry, _moy solnyshko_.” The Colourman manipulated his leaf-blade stone knife, carefully scraping the pure powdered ultramarine Blue from between Yuuri’s legs. Coming to Woodstock had been a good idea – there was probably enough deposited life force from both performers and audience alike in the Blue to set up different identities. “So, shall we find Sennelier again? Or should we settle down at last?”

“I’m a muse who constantly inspires musicians instead of artists,” Yuuri complained lowly, shifting a thigh. “Do you want to go back to Petrograd?”

“It’s Leningrad now, my star~ Terrible name for a beautiful city.” Viktor put down the knife to kiss the tip of Yuuri’s nose. “We could go to this Hasetsu. You mention it sometimes. See your family.”

“My family is in the clouds.” Yuuri’s nose wrinkled, but he kissed back. The Blue left a smudge on Viktor’s nose. “We’ll drop in on them, then we’ll go hang around Europe some more. When the Iron Curtain falls, we’ll finally go see Petrograd again.”

“We’ll find a house, get a puppy- I want a poodle!” Viktor’s eyes brightened.

Yuuri laughed. “Sure. We’ll get a large poodle, who’s as happy as you. Vitya said it exactly...”

“Yes, my darling?”

“I think... I don’t want to be the model anymore.” Yuuri contemplated. “I’ll finally try painting.”

“Not ice skating? Because I remember you talking about that woman in _Thin Ice_ -”

“ _Vitya_. Ice skating is complicated, and I won’t be able to compete internationally.” Yuuri sighed. “The Knightsbridge Club was fun... but I want to be the artist for once.”

“Okay.” Viktor returned to scraping the Blue off of Yuuri. “Then, for the first time, I’ll be your colourman.”

“Aren’t you always?” Yuuri was right; Viktor would be here, no matter how he would finally venture from being the one who inspires art to one who creates art. The only thing is, would Yuuri be able to paint?


End file.
